


A Mother's Love

by NovaTheBomb



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen, Kid Nero, Nero & Mom AU, Nero was raised by his mom, Nero's mom is a badass, Reader is Nero's mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23049211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaTheBomb/pseuds/NovaTheBomb
Summary: When a young Nero wanders off alone into the woods near your home, it's up to you to bring him home safely.But what horrors are hiding in wait within the forest?
Relationships: Implied Past Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Nero (Devil May Cry) & Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 80





	A Mother's Love

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a Valentine's Day fic but life happened, so here it is now. Might fuck around and make this into a series...

“Nero, time for dinner!” you shouted through the propped open window over the kitchen sink, rinsing your hands quickly before drying them on a nearby towel.

The rambunctious young boy was unusually quiet. You’d been so absorbed in dinner preparations, you couldn’t quite remember the last time you’d actually checked up on his location; last you knew, he’d been making (and hopefully not eating) mud pies in the garden.

“Nero?” You tossed the towel back onto the counter and stood up on your tiptoes to look through the window at a different angle. Still no sign of white hair among the various plants.

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of your stomach as you moved around to the front door. No sign of muddy hand- or footprints, so he hadn’t come inside…

“Nero!” you called out again, this time through the front door. When you still received no answer, you knew that your gut instinct had been true.

It took less than a minute to pull on your boots and grab the rifle by the door (M1903 Springfield, smuggled from the mainland years ago), checking to see that it was loaded (4 rounds) before hurrying outside. There was still clear evidence of your son playing in the garden, but he was nowhere to be seen - though you could clearly make out a set of footprints in the damp soil heading away from the house. You could only follow them as far as the edge of the garden, but at least that gave you a starting point.

After all of the times you’d told him never to stray… What was he thinking?

No, it wasn’t his fault. He was only a child. You should have kept a better eye on him.

Gripping the rifle tighter and swallowing back the sour taste of despair, you headed for the trees that marked the boundary of the forest near your home.

Sir Vargas, the retired Order Knight Marshal who had taken you in when the entirety of Fortuna cast you out, had taught you many things. Combat - with both melee and ranged weapons - how to live off the land, and most importantly: how to track quarry through the woods. It was thanks to him that you and your son were even alive to this day, in spite of the demons that were drawn to Nero because of his blood.

Still, Sir Vargas was a master huntsman and tracker; you were not. Your progress was slow, but steady, even though you’d had to retrace your steps once or twice to pick up a lost trail. You continued to call your son’s name into the dense forest, hoping that he could hear you, or at the very least that any demons nearby would be drawn to your voice instead of the helpless young boy.

It worked.

The rifle in your hands lifted automatically at the first hint of motion in your vision, whipping towards the gigantic lizardlike creature as its heavy footfalls seemed to hesitate. Hands sweating, breath shaking, your finger tightened on the trigger-

You paused. The demon had been drawn by the shouting, but… it was sniffing the air in between hair-raising growls, head turning this way and that. Electricity pulsed around it, charging the air between you.

 _A Blitz_ , you thought, lowering the rifle as slowly and quietly as possible even as your body trembled against your will. _It’s blind… if I can keep quiet, it may pass me by._

What other choice did you have? You were a good shot, but four bullets against this enemy left little room for error.

A shaking breath fell from your lips, chest burning as you fought to keep it silent. The demon was closer now, less than 10 yards; any closer and you swore it would hear the drumbeat of your heart.

Two more steps and you could feel the surge of electricity raging from the spikes on its back, the taste of metal on your tongue growing with every strugglingly slow breath. It let out a snarl that chilled you to your core, head drifting closer to you as it inhaled deeply, searching for a scent. You placed a shaking hand over your mouth, forcing your eyes to stay open despite the stinging of fear-induced tears.

The Blitz’s horrifically clawed arm shot out in a blur, connecting solidly with a tree only mere steps to your side. You choked on a startled scream, stumbling backwards to avoid the splinters and debris as the top of the tree shattered against the ground you had just been standing on. The demon let out a roar that turned your blood to ice, knowing that this would be your last moment-

Until it turned and began to walk away.

You watched with wide, disbelieving eyes as its form retreated, nearly disappearing back into the thick woods when you heard a _new_ sound that reignited the flame of terror in your heart for a different reason.

“ _Mama!_ ”

The roar of the Blitz drowned out your own cry, your feet moving before your brain could even catch up. In an instant the rifle was back up against your shoulder, first shot firing with an ear-splitting _BANG_ as you tried to blink away the tears in your eyes.

“ _Stay back, Nero!_ ” you all but screamed, slamming the rifle’s bolt forward with more force than was strictly necessary in your rush to reload. The first shot had done nothing but give away your position to the demon, glancing off of the heavy, chitinous armor of its shoulder.

Three shots left; as the demon raced toward you with an angry roar, you did all you could to remember what Sir Vargas had taught you about the beasts.

 _BANG_. Another shot ricocheted off of its skull plating, though this one left a sizable crack. Even if you could have hit that spot again perfectly, you doubted your remaining two shots would be enough to break through.

 _Please, don’t make an orphan of my son,_ you pleaded to any god or being that may have been listening, throwing yourself to the side with all of your might to avoid the crackling, deadly claws of the beast as it rushed at you.

You landed hard on your shoulder, using your momentum to roll back onto your feet unsteadily and bring the rifle back up to bear. The demon’s momentum kept it from following your dive, but not for long. It let out another ear-piercing shriek as its claws dug into the tree just behind where you had been standing, felling yet another massive trunk in its rage.

 _BANG_. Another shot deflected by its armor.

 _Damn it,_ you cursed, pulling back the bolt to eject the spent shell with shaking hands.

In the corner of your eye you spotted a flash of silver - your son, muddy and terrified and _far too close to the demon_.

“Nero stay back!” you shouted, sliding the bolt home and raising the rifle once more. The demon was already tearing through shrubs and branches on its way to you. It opened its mouth to let out a shriek and you placed your hope and prayers on this one last shot.

_BANG._

The beast’s head reared back as the bullet blasted through its open mouth and into the wet, soft inside of its skull, howl morphing into a pained, gurgling sound that made you sick. It fell to the ground only feet away from you, flailing and gouging deep scars into anything it could reach - trees, soft earth, rocks. You made as wide a berth of it as possible as you ran to your son, slinging the rifle over your shoulder and falling to your knees to pull him into your arms.

“Mama?” he whispered hoarsely, face wet with tears and snot that had cut stark paths through the grime of mud and dirt.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you assured him, holding tighter as you felt his little arms reach around you and the soft sniffles he tried to hide in your shirt. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hiccupping quietly. You shushed him quietly, running your fingers through his dirty and matted hair as you blinked away your own tears.

_Crack._

Your whole body stiffened at the noise, breath catching in your throat. No, there was no way…

Shifting, you glanced over your shoulder.

_The Blitz was standing._

“Nero,” you whispered, hands moving from him and back to the rifle on your shoulder. “Run.”

“What?” he responded, voice thick with sobs as he leaned back to look at you. “Mama?”

The demon turned towards you.

“Run!” you shouted, pushing him away. “Don’t look back! Just go!”

You didn’t have time to make sure he listened, the demon already crashing through the forest toward you. The rifle was a comfortable weight in your hands as you reached for the bolt-

Until you remembered you had no more bullets.

“ _Fuck!_ ” you hissed, tossing the weapon to the ground and falling back on your one last hope.

The dagger in your boot was no longer than your forearm, slim enough to be concealed in a thin sheath against your calf, but sharp. You’d never had to use it before, not seriously, but Sir Vargas had given you preliminary lessons in close-quarters combat so your grip was steady even as the rest of you shook in terror.

The Blitz let out a harrowing shriek even through the bloody mess pouring from its mouth, spraying the crimson liquid in every direction as it charged you. You took a ready stance as if you were facing your mentor in a sparring match, trying to steady your frantic breaths and calm your mind.

Time seemed to slow down as the beast grew closer, your limbs heavy, blood cold. It swung at you with one massive fist; you pivoted on your heel, feeling as a claw tore through the fabric of your shirt just over your collarbones, tendrils of electricity leaving a pinprick trail of stinging pain across the now exposed skin. Gripping your dagger tight, you used your momentum and that of the creature to drive the blade’s razor sharp edge into its open, howling mouth and through the gap in bone that your bullet had shattered just before. It sank into soft tissue with a sickening _schlorp_ sound, pain shooting up your arm from the crackling electricity burst it released.

The force of the collision between the two of you sent you stumbling backwards. Wicked, jagged teeth cut into the soft flesh of your forearm as you withdrew your blade with a mighty pull, helped somewhat by gravity as the creature fell to the earth once more.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in your bloody arm and shoulder, you shifted your grasp on the dagger and held it between both hands. A broken cry of your own left your lips as you drove the blade downwards, just under the armor on its torso, and angled it to pierce into the beast’s heart.

With one last, wet-sounding noise, the creature dissipated into a cloud of thick ash.

You sank to your knees, dagger still held loosely in your grasp, and finally allowed yourself a moment to breathe. Everything hurt. A chill from the rapidly cooling blood dripping down your arm shook your tired body, giving you a good look into all of the various wounds you’d received during the battle.

You’d need a nice, long shower after this. And Nero, too…

_Nero._

You jumped to your feet, knuckles white on the dagger’s grip as you frantically looked around you.

“Nero!” you shouted, taking a few hesitant steps toward where you had just held him in your arms. “Nero?”

“Mama?” His timid voice was nearby. You heard a small rustling of a nearby bush, and then his face was peering over its dark leaves at you.

Laughing in cathartic relief, you wiped the blood from the dagger onto your jeans and replaced it within your boot before welcoming your child into your arms. You didn’t want to ever release him, but you were still in danger while in the forest.

“Let’s go home, Little Star,” you murmured, standing to retrieve the rifle before taking his hand in yours.

Dinner was cold, but the shower was warm, and you’d face a thousand more demons to see him smile the way he did as you both washed up.


End file.
